You Should See the Things He Thinks About You
by sullarco
Summary: dipper makes the mistake of hanging around the medium with a supernatural book.


"This is where I found it."

Norman gives the fake tree a quick inspection; the usual rapping of knuckles and feeling around for anomalies. The hatch is still ajar from when Dipper had initially discovered the book, but the hole in the ground he mentioned is closed. Norman turns back to his friend who stands unmoving, said book in hand. He stares until he notices Norman's eyes on him. Then he just laughs and looked everywhere but straight ahead.

Its getting darker, Oregon's landscape turning orange and pink against the sun, filtering through its tall pines, and getting colder, but Dipper didn't seem to mind. When Norman shrugs, Dipper sits down with the book and beckons him over. Together, they sit and flip through the book's aging pages.

"It's really... beautiful... here." Norman sits scrunched, knees to his chin, while Dipper's legs are stretched out and he leans back against hunched shoulders.

"Yeah I guess Gravity Falls does have a certain charm, hahaha..."

When the crickets get loud, they don't head back to the Mystery Shack. When the waxing moon shows up on the other side of the trees, they still don't head back. They stay in comfortable silence, away from a loud uncle and a nose-y sister. As Dipper turns to the last page of the book that had been written in, he reads the text as he has done so often before. He desperately wants a clue to the book's previous owner. His forehead scrunches in concentration, looking for some kind of clue hidden in the owner's last words. Who, or what, was watching them? Was it even a monster?

"You've thought a lot about this, haven't you?" Norman nudges him with an arm fully tucked into his shirt.

Dipper watches the ground with a tiny sheepish smile. "Yeah, a little." He grabs the book into his lap, fingers resting on its pages. "I mean, yeah, a lot. I just want to know who wrote all of this. Where did he go? What was following him? Is it still here, watching me, now that I have the book, or did it follow its previous owner-ah... Norman?" Dipper opens his eyes, not really sure when exactly he'd closed them, but the look on Norman's face scares him.

He's staring at the book, but his eyes look almost empty, and the air around him starts to turn green. Invading his mouth and seeping from his nose, his eyes then illuminating with the sickly colour surrounding him. It was coming from the book, where Dipper had been rubbing the pages unconsciously. Norman's face is carefully blank, shifting from the book and eventually upwards at Dipper. Then, he smiles.

The next second Norman's arm collides with his head and his path is obstructed only by trees. Dipper shakes his head to clear it, but everything is slow, dull. There's an echo that he's sure wasn't there before. He grasps at the tree on his right to haul himself up, get a clear look at Norman. Its dark, really dark, but the green glow of Norman's presence is suddenly in front of him, and a hand grips him by the collar of his shirt.

"Well, well." Norman says––or Not-Norman––and pulls him up to equal height. "Hello, Dipper. Yes, I know who you are. I've been waiting in that book for ages, for the right time." Norman's smile is sickly, and Dipper can barely stand to look it it. It fades quickly though, drips into an expression of nonchalance, and that's even more worrying. He suddenly drops Dipper to the ground and shoves a shoe into his stomach, and as he's doubled over, again at his head. Norman's hands slide into the pockets of his jeans, watching, unhurried, observing, curious almost.

When Dipper feels that he can speak, he looks up at that expression. It suits Norman ill. He hates that look on Norman's face. Blood trickles down his nose and onto his lips. "Who are you."

"That's not important; ask an interesting question."

"What do you want?"

"There we go! That's always the bottom line, isn't it. What do you want. Why are you doing this." Norman, or rather, the ghost possessing Norman, takes an easy step back, and then takes two forward to grab at Dipper again. Takes the back of his vest and shoves him effortlessly into the tree, laughing when he falls back to the ground. "I guess it all comes down to, 'because its fun', and you're here, so why not? I know you've had that book for a while now. I know about your silly romps with Mabel. I even know about your little feelings for my boy here." At that, the the ghost pats Norman's stomach proudly. "For as long as you've hung onto that book, its no surprise all your emotions have seeped into it already." What's great though, is the way Norman's heart flutters at that comment. Oh, this was going to be very fun.

Dipper coughs, hacks, and spits red. His nose is running with blood, now. Can taste it on his upper lip. The ghost grabs Dipper by the wrist, hauls him to his feet. He stares at Dipper, grinning. Norman's heart actually _flutters_. Panicked and backed into a corner, no getting away from this. He's touching Dipper's wrist. Can feel Dipper's harsh breaths against his skin and it smells like blood. The ghost has an almost fond smile now, and brings Norman's fingers to press gently against Dipper's bottom lip.

"You should _see_ the things he thinks about you."

Dipper's eyes widen, struck still. The ghost leans in and tongues away the blood on Dipper's lip.

"Ah yes, mhmm, yes good, very good." Says the ghost, almost as if having a conversation with Norman. It's almost true. It searches through Norman's desires against his will, and acts like it's a willing exchange. "It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?" It's inevitable that Norman's thoughts about Dipper would be at the forefront of his mind. They are close enough to nearly touch just by breathing. Just being this close to Dipper is almost exiting. Something he's never had the guts to do in the time they'd known each other. Only now, for the first time, have they been this close. The ghost invades his thoughts and laughs at his insecurities. "This isn't that different from one of your fantasies, Norman, you should be enjoying this." But God it's true.

"What."

Dipper's voice brings the ghost back to his attention.

"Oh yes, all the times you've been in these woods, you'd never thought that Norman would be having these thoughts about you. How many times has he imagined getting you out here alone in the dark, kissing you, pressing against you. He wants to know what it feels like. Oh yes, has he never mentioned? Never kissed anyone before, but neither have you, have you Dipper?" The ghost pauses, backing Dipper fully against the tree. "He imagines how it is to lick his way inside your mouth; what your teeth and your palette feel like. He'd disappear down your throat if he could."

Dipper closes his eyes tightly, and does the worst possible thing in this situation. He thinks about that. Imagines just the other evening he and Norman in the woods, book in hand, ready to explore, and how wonderful it might have been for Norman to back him against a tree and kiss him.

"Oh, _Dipper_." The ghost whispers, almost gleefully. For all his bleeding, the blood in Dipper's face simply drains. His body heats with shame when he looks down to where an erection is pressing against his shorts. "Don't tell me, you've thought about him too? Or is this proof you're only thinking about it for the first time?" He tilts Dipper's chin upwards, prompting him to open his eyes. That awful green still seeps from his mouth when he talks. "Hey, it's okay." suddenly sweet. "He likes you, too, nothing to be ashamed of, really."

Norman's even closer now, pressing against him, and he'd have to be stupid not to feel the bulge in Norman's jeans.

"Well. This has been interesting, hasn't it. Let's keep in touch, Dipper." He leans in, and touches his lips gently to Dipper's. Freeze. Dipper can't do anything but freeze. His lips pucker for the kiss almost against his will, unsure of what else to do. It's true he's never kissed before, or been kissed. Is he kissing Norman or the ghost? Shame floods him again and heats his face and the tips of his ears. Before he knows it the feeling is gone. His front is cold. When he opens his eyes Norman's back is already retreating into the woods, away from the Mystery Shack.

"Wait! Norman!" His voice breaks but he stumbles forward. Frowning, hot with embarrassment and guilt, he adjusts himself in his shorts and grabs the book on the way to follow Norman. He catches up, but only because he finds Norman kneeling on the grass, either having tripped or just run out of gas. "Norman, hey!" Dipper fell to the ground beside him, worried. "Hey are you okay? Here..." Dipper touches his sleeve and tries to maneuver Norman to sit up. Norman's eyes are red and he looks down, too ashamed to even try to explain himself. He says nothing.

"Listen, c'mon. We should go back to the Mystery Shack." Dipper's hand stays on his arm, and notes that Norman is shivering. But it's not a frightened shiver, at least he doesn't think so. He mostly just feels... very cold. He takes off his vest and put it over Norman's shoulders as they stand up. "I don't know what happened, but it's my fault, I'm sorry."

Norman looks Dipper in the eye for the first time, "It's okay." Dipper looks back at him skeptically. "No, really..."

They both shift, eyes everything but each other, suddenly feeling very awkward. The silence stretches.

"I like you." Norman says. He takes his thumb and wipes blood from Dipper's lip.

Dipper smiles. "What are we going to make up for Gruncle Stan and Mabel?"


End file.
